Happy is
by Flit-Flibbertigibbet
Summary: Astrid comes to a relaization about Hiccup. rated T for subtle violence.
1. Normal

**Wow. i haven't been on here in an onscenely long time, i make no promises to return. but this popped into my head because I'm oddly twisted and can't watch kid's movies without becoming creepily obsessed and/or falling in love with the main character. Or both. i wish my dog was a dragon.**

He was a blacksmith. Blacksmiths fixed weapons. Perhaps he was an unusual blacksmith, perhaps he was an incompetent Viking, but he could handle fixing weapons. So whenever a Viking reluctantly handed him their prized weapons, he rolled his eyes, but got the job done. This happened most often with the kids his age. Snotlout, Fishlegs, the Twins. Astrid. They left him jobs to do in the form of dented shields, dulled swords, and broken handles, and paid with a coin and a jibe. He would nod, take the coin, and tuck the insult away. Normal.

Astrid hated normal. She was a Viking, a soon-to-be legend. Normal is a nuisance at best, an affront to her town at worst. As she entered the dark, fire lit smithy, cradling a wounded sword, she would set her face in a mask to hide the disgust at the mundane-ness of the shop. She would hand whatever weapon needed mending to the assistant, avoiding eye contact, trying to shield him from the embarrassment of his existence. Her strong, calloused hands would push a weapon into his sooty, scarred ones, and she would leave, thinking how lucky she was not to be clumsy enough to collect so many injuries in training. She would return the next day, collect her item, flick a coin to the boy, and leave with a sarcastic remark, or nothing at all, and return to her quest of glory. He was normal. She refused to be.

Watching her leave, Hiccup sighed, knowing that with her most recent jibe, he was succumbing to weakness again. He checked to see if Gobbler was around. Of course not. Why would his teacher want to be near his failure of an apprentice? Why would any Viking want to be near the "wrong" one, the mistake, the Hiccup? He paced, hands shaking in his frustration and embarrassment, in his anger and wounded pride. Hiccup, checked again, knowing that her one sarcastic remark had been just too much. He grit his teeth, and picked up the lustrous tongs from the fire. His hands stopped quivering, his heart slowed, and his anger left him, burning on the outside instead.

"Hey, um, Hiccup, I forgot to ask you-this shield needs to be…" The cocky girl drew up short entering the workshop. "Why does it smell like-bacon?" She glared at the boy, wondering if he had any extra rations in the dead of winter. Before thoughts of spoiled chiefs' sons carried her away, she saw the angry burn on his arm. "Oh. Ouch. Pack some snow on that. Listen, The strap to this shield is broken. Can you mend it by tomorrow?" She waited for his answer, but he just looked at her, guilt and an almost laugh on his face. Finally, he nodded, and she returned it, rolling her eyes as she left. Not only was he a total gimp, he couldn't even be in a workshop without causing himself an injury!

Hiccup didn't bother to watch her leave. He remembered that awkward silence, his certainty that she would know what he had done, that manic laugh that had itched up his throat in the silence. Then, like any other Viking, she had barreled on in her thoughts and left, sparing time only to roll her eyes at his weirdness. What did he expect? She was an ordinary girl. One of the pack. And "the pack" did not have trouble with burns.

He continued to administer to her needs, fixing the weapons she requested and returning them, but now he noticed that her hands and wrists were beautiful. Calloused hands, rough from weapons, merged onto smooth, perfect wrists. She wasn't damaged by mistakes. In addition, she didn't damage herself. Hiccup began to feel, merged with all her other merits, envy for this girl, with her beautiful wrists.


	2. Afterthoughts

A year passes. He is a hero, a legend. He has the scornful girl and her perfect hands. Hiccup doesn't dabble in flame anymore. The combined efforts of happiness and business drove away his destructive tendencies. He's happy-but still, he feels the bumps on his arms and has envy for her. Happiness is only worth it if you remember the sadness before it, and so Hiccup _is _happy.

She loves him, this odd boy with his too-large eyes and his cracking voice. She remembers, wincing, how he would react to her cruel remarks, and the harsher ones of her friends, and she marvels at him and wonders. How could he be so strong, as to tune out all the rejection? Astrid doesn't really like confusion, but this boy _is _confusion. And she loves him. So despite her thoughts and guilt, she's calm. Happiness is when you get what you want, and it's more than you imagine, and so Astrid is happy.

She sits with her family, ready to tear into the winter rations. Behind her, the cook fire sparks, and her house is warm and dark. As her father hands her a plate, the pops, lighting the room in a red glow, and her stomach growls at the smell. Then she looks down at the hand, offering her a plate, and blinks. "Dad, I-just realized I'm not hungry. You eat my food, ok? I need to…fix something. I think." She turned and stumbled out of her house and headed to the big house on the hill above her, the house far too showy for a boy like Hiccup, but just showy enough for his dad.

"Hey Astrid, where are you goin' so fast, lass? Hiccup got home just ahead of me, he's right inside." Speak of the devil. She nodded to the hulking chief, barely sparing a thought as she clambered up the hill. Reaching the doors, she knocked once and opened them, and went up the steps to Hiccup's room. She was slightly surprised to find him there, drawing something vaguely, leaning up against Toothless. He concentrated, and scratched his leg stump. The prosthetic leaned against the wall not far from him.

"I'm sorry, Hiccup." She burst in, and he looked at her, bemused.

"Uh-it's ok? Whatever it, er, is." He used Toothless to stand up, and hopped to the wall, intending to put it on. Astrid stopped him.

"Stop, sit down, I've got it." She practically pushed him onto his bed, and grabbed the metal foot for him, before kneeling in front of him, as she had done so many times.

"Astrid, you know you don't have to do that. I've been doing it for over a year now, it's fairly easy." He flushed; feeling helpless as she expertly strapped it on.

"Really, what's the point in watching you contort yourself? You know it's easier for me to do it, _and _it's faster. Relax. Besides, I, um-I think I owe it to you. Along with an apology." She looked up at him, saw his frustrated glare, and sighed. "No, it's not the 'conquering hero junk.' Wouldn't I have done that about a year ago? Look, Hiccup. I know-something. About-I just-remember when I had asked you to fix a shield for me, and I ran down and-I asked about bacon?" He looked at her before bursting into laughter.

"No! Why are you talking about bacon, Astrid? Look, come here, and calm down! I have no idea what this bacon incident did to you, but I'm sure together we can work through the traumatizing event-"

"You're lying." She stood up and sat next to him, and took his hand, rough from fire and dragon scales.

"Am not. I have faith in our conquering of bacon." Astrid turned over his wrist and felt the bumps there. "Uh-Astrid? What are you doing?"

"Did you do this, Hiccup?" He didn't look at her for a moment, then made eye contact and ginned, half his mouth rising higher on his cheek.

"Of course! I _am _the biggest screw up you know! With dragon-killing special effects on the side!"

"Hiccup, _stop it._" She looked at him, and the smile faded from his face. In the dusk of his room, he looked paler, smaller.

"Ok. Yeah. I did." He seemed almost to shrug, his face calm.

"But _why? _Moreover, why didn't you tell anyone? Your dad? You could have told-"

"You, Astrid? Really? Because you would listen to that weird clumsy kid, the one who screwed up _everything? _Come on, tell my father? That what, I had a strange love affair with burning tongs! Yay, more normal features for the weirdest Viking ever. Why do you think, Astrid? I did it because there was nobody to stop me." For a second he looked at her, before hopping up and leaning against a wall. "Astrid, please drop it. What does it matter anymore? I was unhappy! So I did some stupid things, ok? It isn't important."

"But-Hiccup, I caused that! I did, and the Twins, and all the others. Gobbler and the town and-"She slowed down, startled by how old he looked. How tired.

"And my father." His hands ran through his hair, finally stopping on top of his head and he sighed. "Astrid, you didn't know. Nobody knew. You all did what you thought was natural, and that's ok. My father-he is still learning. I guess that it just seems silly to bring everything up." Astrid pushed against the bed, inviting him back.

"You're a bigger hero than all of us, you know. We fought for our friends and family, for the village, for the people we love. You…you fought for the people that burned you. I'm sorry, Hiccup." He smiled at her and held her close.

"What does it matter, Astrid? I can safely say that I came out a winner. I mean, I have my best friend, my dad, and my super hot girlfriend" She pushed him on the shoulder a bit, grinning, "I'm happy, Astrid. Because I know how much better off I am, and I have everything I ever wanted, and it is so much more than I expected." She let her head drop onto his shoulder, and thought for the perfect response.

"Thank you for summing all that up."


End file.
